Intermission: Eliam
"He brought his daughter," Shera frowned slightly, resting her arms on the windowsill of the lavish study, careful not to pull at the sleeves of her gown. "Oh?" Eliam asked, walking to the window. A guard helped a young woman out from a covered wagon; she stepped carefully over a puddle, lifting the hem of an elaborately decorated green dress over the mud as she moved. She's pretty, I suppose, he thought to himself, his fingers tapping boredly against the wood. The evening sun shone down on her red hair as she laughed at some comment made by an older man near her; her father, Eliam assumed. A woman who must have been her mother followed behind her. "Don't," Shera said, turning to him. He smiled at her. "Don't what?" "Anything. Don't do anything. You know how important it is to Father and Arlan that Master Talston agrees to this deal. Whatever stupid idea you have planned, don't." Eliam rolled his eyes at her. "You worry too much. I'm not planning to do anything. We'll have a boring dinner, listen to everyone tell this guy how great he is so he signs some dumb deal, and then listen to everyone crow about what a great businessman Arlan is." She sighed, readjusting her hair one last time in the mirror.. "I'm not the only one worried about you, you know. Micah said there's been word of more Rorgh in the town, and Father has barely spoken to you after that stunt with that lute you pulled last week. One of the maids was whispering about a bribe..." "Okay, okay," he said, interrupting her. "I get it. But it's fine. If he's really that upset with me, I'll go work in Ushad again, or whatever they tell me to do. But hey, more importantly, what did you get me for my birthday?" She grinned, but before she could answer, their brother walked into the sitting room. Eliam crossed his arms as he waited for Cyrus to speak. Serious as ever, he thought, taking one last look out the window. Like almost everyone else in the house, he hadn't spoken to him much lately; he'd heard the whispers though, that taxes were going up yet again, that increasing business was important. That they blamed him for the Rorgh being around more, and for requesting yet more money to keep things quiet. He can't still be mad about the lute too, can he? If he was, Eliam couldn't tell. Cyrus was always blaming him for something anyways. The Rorgh couldn't possibly care about him, anyways, and really, that con had just proved that he could probably talk even an Orc into leaving them alone… “Our guests are here, if you’re finally done getting ready,” Cyrus announced. Eliam rolled his eyes. “Be nice,” Shera said before he could answer. “Both of you. Cyrus, please tell Mother we'll be down in a moment.” He nodded, leaving. Eliam tried not to roll his eyes again. “He’s-” “Nice enough, if you'd bother to speak to him instead of just provoking him all the time.” She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting in the doorway him to follow her out of the sitting room. “Well, he brings it on himself, you know,” Eliam said, walking with her. “He takes himself way too seriously. It's hard not to want to get a reaction, you know?” She smiled despite herself, pausing before the door to the entryway. “It's so rare to have everyone home at once… let's just try to enjoy it, okay?” She opened the door leading into the main hall, and Eliam smiled at their guests. His brothers stood speaking by the front door. Arlan was nodding agreeably at some comment Master Talston had made to their father, while Mrs. Talston chatted happily with his mother. Her daughter stood near them, bored. She matched his gaze when he looked at her, staring a bit longer than most would consider proper. Well that's interesting, he thought, bowing distractedly as his father went through introductions. “Your dress is so beautiful, Lyra,” Shera said brightly when introductions were done, grabbing the girl's attention. “Did you bring it all the way from Siraj? I’m not terribly familiar with fashion, but I've heard the dressmakers there are the finest in Iquai...” Eliam gave the girl one last smile as his sister made small talk, and wandered to where Micah and Cyrus were speaking, taking a glass of wine from a small tray as he walked. “Are you old enough to be drinking that?” Micah teased, smiling. “Please. Like he hasn't been drinking for years now,” Cyrus answered, looking somewhat annoyed. Eliam downed his glass in one go, smiling as he set it on an end table and signaled for another. “I'll be twenty tomorrow, thank you,” Eliam answered with feigned offense. “Twenty years and you haven't learned to appreciate a glass of wine,” Micah laughed. “Careful you don't overdo it.” “Me? It would take more than one glass for that, I promise.” “Really now? I remember otherwise... Remember that party a few years ago?” Micah smiled. “But more importantly, how are your studies coming along?” Do we have to talk about this now? “Fine, of course.” Cyrus scoffed, and it was all Eliam could do not to hit him. “I… I thought about what you said, about healing. Father has been saying I need to make something of myself, and that wouldn't be too hard… It’s not exactly a glamorous job, but...” Micah nodded. “Maybe not. But it could be a good fit, Eliam. My wife was saying her village needs a good healer, and if you come back with me tomorrow, we can have you set up within the month. I'm sure Arlan would appreciate being able to say one of the Westmontes was so involved in selfless work like that, as well.” Of course he would. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, of course. He'd never really met any other healers, but he was sure he was one of the best, even though he’d stopped seriously learning magic ages ago. But could he really spend his days in some outpost, cleaning some villager's blood out of his clothes every day? And for someone of his social standing… “Boys,” his mother called cheerfully, “dinner will be served soon.” His brothers left to the dining room, following the others as they went to take a seat along the table. Micah gave him a concerned look as he left, when he thought he wasn't looking. Eliam stared at his wine, frowning. I wish he wouldn’t look at me like that. Lyra, he noticed, lingered in the room. His sister had left their conversation at some point, apparently. He took a second glass of wine and carried it over. “Would you like a drink, Miss Lyra?” “I… oh, yes,” she demurred, glancing nervously at her parents as they disappeared down the hall. He offered her a reassuring smile as he handed her the wine. “There’ll be some time yet before dinner, I'm afraid. They always call it a bit early. To be honest, I find the business discussions a bit boring, so waiting on the food is torture.” “Yes, I suppose it is,” she said, covering her mouth as she laughed. “Eliam, right?” He nodded. “I'm sure they won't miss us for a bit. Would you like to see the house?” He offered her his arm, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. He spoke as they walked, pointing out the various points of interest; a painting here, a tapestry there... It was nice, to skip the boring dinner discussion. Especially more awkward questions about his studies, or his future. He much preferred the look Lyra kept giving him when she thought he wasn't looking, he decided, and he much preferred her company as well. “And this,” he announced, opening the door with a small flourish, “is the library.” She giggled at his theatrics, stepping lightly through the door. “This is quite the collection,” she said, running her finger down the spine of a book on the abridged history of Tezef. He closed the door behind him. “Father's worked on it for years… there's a book of old legends on the the top there that's my favorite. Do you read much, Miss Lyra?” He asked, taking a candle from the desk and casually lighting it with a small spell. She nodded as she walked, examining the titles. “When I have time, I enjoy it, yes. I’m fond of fiction, mostly, and...” she trailed off, blushing furiously as she accidentally stumbled into him. He smiled, setting the candle back down on the desk. “Sorry,” he said, taking a step back. “Just wanted some ligh-” She kissed him briefly, to his surprise. She stepped away quickly, looking embarrassed. “I-” Well, no sense turning down an opportunity like this, Eliam thought as he kissed her again, pulling her towards him. How long has it been since we left? Though if no one had come looking for them yet, surely they wouldn't at all? He was surprised at her lack of propriety, but really, he could hardly complain. He'd have to explain where they'd been, of course, but it wouldn't be hard to think up some story about a walk in the garden, or something... He jumped as the door flew open, Lyra stifling a small shriek as she hastily pulled down her dress. Really? Now? Please don't let it be him, Eliam thought. His brothers would cover for him, surely, but his father had already told him no more mistakes... His father stood at the door. Arlan followed close behind him, staring at him, speechless. Lyra flew to the door as her own father appeared as well, crying in a way Eliam was almost positive couldn't be genuine. His father shook his head as he turned to the man. “Talston. I'm so sorry-” “Sorry?!” He answered, furious. “What in the Valley was your son doing with…” Eliam’s focus on the conversation broke as Arlan walked into the library, looking as though he wanted to slap him. “Are you trying to ruin me?” He whispered furiously. “It's not my fault,” he began to explain. “I don't care. Why do you keep doing this? First you get the Rorgh’s attention, when the Elyde already have us under so much scrutiny, and now you try to ruin our chances with this deal?” Arlan shook his head. “Did I do something to you? Eliam, if you're upset with me, this isn't how you address it.” “Arlan,” his father called, getting their attention, “could you please step outside? Eliam,” his voice turned cold, “wait here.” His brother gave him one last look as he stepped out of the library, closing the door as he left. She kissed me first, he thought, annoyed. But he supposed it didn't matter now. It'd be another month on the boats then, probably, or worse, cooped up in Ushad. Though maybe they'd let him take an easy paperwork job this time? He looked around the library, noticing his wine glass discarded on the floor. He took it and carried it to the door; he'd heard once that helped if trying to listen in on someone. “... Will be dealt with, I assure you.” “The disrespect shown to…” He sighed, returning to sit at the desk. He started a fire in the fireplace, with some satisfaction at his ability to manage the spell. It wasn’t his fault, he decided, not really. He looked around at the books, waiting, and after what felt like an eternity, his father walked through the door, a guard following him. With a heavy thud, the door closed, and his father sat down in the large chair opposite him, behind the desk. Arguments ran through his mind; he was confident, given the chance, he could explain himself well enough to get out of this. He waited for his father to speak first; bored, he leaned back in the chair. He looked more tired than he’d remembered, older, somehow. Finally, with a sigh, his father leaned his arms on the desk and spoke. “Eliam. I just… don’t understand. Why?” Eliam shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know exactly what he expected… yelling? An offer to settle things after dinner? But his father’s tone was quiet, almost reserved. “I didn’t-” “I have tried everything I can think of to communicate the gravity of our situation to you. I should have put a stop to this behavior when you were younger, perhaps. Livia said it was just a phase you would grow out of, but…” Eliam looked down as he trailed off, fidgeting with a small splinter on the chair. Better not to say anything for now, he decided, as his father looked at him, thinking deeply. It was just one girl, though. There were other families they could deal with, if Master Talston made good on his threats and simply left. “The Elyde have no love for us, Eliam,” he explained softly. “Nor for anyone in our position. Our existence is a threat to their reign; a reminder of a time before they existed… if it could be done without disrupting anything, in a way the people found just, they would kill us. If they found some excuse to, they would hurt us in whatever way they could, for no other reason than to prove to every other family, every person in Iquai, that we are not untouchable. That no person of the upper class is untouchable. Do you understand?” “Yes.” It was the answer he knew he wanted to hear. And of course the Elyde had hated the upper class, everyone knew that. But they weren't even nobility anymore. And they were so far away from the real cities. How would they even hear about things he’d done when the cities were days away? And everything he'd done was so minor, and it's not like much was expected of him, being the youngest son. Why would they even care? “You don't. And every day it becomes harder to support your actions. It isn’t just yourself, or our family, that you harm. Those are people, Eliam, to whom we have some measure of responsibility.” He felt his stomach drop as his father gave a quick signal, and an armored hand gripped his shoulder. “I deeply, truly regret that I am left with no other option. Eliam… I am sorry. Please, go get your things.” What? The guard pulled him up, guiding him to the door. “I don't- you can't-” He stammered as he was lead away. The hallway, at least, was empty; no one to witness this, but no one to ask what the hell was going on. “Eidrick,” he addressed the guard as he was lead to his room. “What did he mean, he had no other option?” The guard remained silent, but shook his head. “Look,” Eliam continued, “I don't know what that girl said I did. But we were just taking a walk, and-” “She didn't say anything particularly damning about you, Master Eliam. But that isn't why you're being disinherited.” What? He stopped short as they reached his room. “Take what you need, then,” Eidrick said, giving him a small push. “No, you- you can't just say that and not explain. What do you mean, disinherited? He can't just do that.” The guard sighed, going into Eliam’s room himself and pushing items at random into his arms; a jacket, a change of clothes, a small knife, a hairbrush. The damned lute. “I'm not privy to every detail. But that's what Master Westmonte decided.” “No.” Eidrick reached to guide him by his shoulder again, and Eliam brushed him off, frowning. He took his bow from where it rested by the door before the door could be closed. “No, this is ridiculous. I'll walk myself, thank you. How long has he even been considering this? I… I need to tell my sister where I'm going. And my mother, does she know about this?” They reached the gate, and Eidrick looked at him with pity. “Tell Lucas, the innkeeper by the south entrance, I sent you. He should let you stay the night at least.” Eliam stood and watched him leave, speechless as the gate was closed and locked. He laughed disbelievingly as he stood, as though waiting for someone to walk out and tell him this was just a joke, he could go back inside now. How often had he come back home from the pub and found the gate locked anyways? Almost without thinking he took the small footpath to the tree he’d often used to get back inside. He put his hand on the lowest branch, ready to pull himself up, but stopped. He couldn't do it. Not so soon, at least. The situation was insane; his father had clearly acted out of anger, furious about the girl. Once he calmed down, he'd welcome him back, apologizing profusely, of course. He’s never acted so irrationally before. Or changed his mind so easily… he shook his head, hurrying furiously to the inn. Clearly, there was a first time for everything. Tomorrow his mother, at least, would no doubt welcome him. She’d likely fret over him, scolding Father for sending her baby boy out into the cold. But for now, there was no reason to raise his ire more by sneaking back in. --- “Eliam Westmonte? Surely the name rings a bell?” He crossed his arms. The innkeeper, Lucas, merely rolled his eyes. “''Sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You'll be having our best suite, then?” The place was garbage, Eliam decided. He'd rarely ventured this close to the town gates, and he was starting to realize he’d made the right choice. The dingy inn he’d been sent to didn't even have a bar, and had only two rooms on the second floor, from what he could tell. “Sure, fine. Whatever you can get me.” The innkeeper paused, looking him over. “Payment up front.” “Charge it to my family's estate,” he answered without missing a beat. “Five gold, up front. ''Sir.” That can't be right. Eliam sighed deeply, trying to remember what he'd brought from home… nothing, he realized, that would help him here. “Eidrick said if I gave you his name, you'd give me a room for the night.” “Did he, now? … Maker, the man owes me double for this. Go on, then.” Begrudgingly he handed Eliam a small key, and pointed up the stairs. “Take the room on the right. You're on your own for breakfast. If anything is broken tomorrow, Eidrick’s name won't help you.” Eliam walked up the stairs without acknowledging him, noticing them creak with some annoyance. He let himself into a small room with bare wooden floors, conjuring a small flame to better see his surroundings. If I get lice, I'm never letting that innkeep hear the end of it. Or Father. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, examining himself for the first time. He realized with a start that he hadn't changed out of his dinner clothes; no wonder the innkeeper had looked at him so strangely. He changed quickly, taking inventory of his things and regretting not taking more… though really, how could he have planned for this? It's just one night, he thought, laying down and drifting off to sleep. ----- “Eliam, please don't make a scene,” the guard at the gate said pleadingly. Eliam looked at her in disbelief, dropping his bag next to him. She sighed at the indication he’d be staying. “I'm not- just, go get my brother, okay? Or my father, if they're already gone. This whole thing is absurd, and they know it. Just… go get one of them, I don't care which.” She shook her head. “I can't. We were specifically asked not to let you harass anyone here. Eliam, we all talk, I know you've been told all this by the other guards during their shifts.” He looked away impatiently, closing his eyes to think. They'd shut him out the whole week; even his attempts to sneak back in had been cut short when the tree he'd planned on climbing in with had been trimmed. He wasn't welcome, it was obvious. He'd have to act fast, he supposed. The Rorgh would be patrolling soon; they seemed to have been showing up like clockwork around the manor each sundown, and the last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for some public nuisance they had to deal with. He picked up his bag, and the guard looked visibly relieved. He fished out a small envelope, and held it out to her. “Give this to my sister. …Please. I want her to at least know that I'm okay.” The guard hesitated for a moment, then took it. “No guarantees, sir.” He nodded and left, returning to the inn. He’d felt it important to at least explain to her what happened, leaving some of the details out, of course. And to apologize, though he wasn't sure the situation necessitated an apology, or who he should even apologize to… he'd thought about writing letters to the rest of his family, but thought it best not to push his luck. They were probably back in their own homes by now, anyway. A small note in the letter telling Mother not to worry about him would suffice, he decided. He didn't even know where to begin with what he'd say to Father. “You’ll want another night, then?” Lucas greeted him as he walked in the door. Eliam nodded, wincing to himself as he handed away some of his last coins. “Just the one. I'll be traveling soon, I think.” “I see,” he said. Thankfully, he didn't pry any further, and with a curt nod Eliam returned to his room. They might have kept him from his home, but he doubted they could keep him from their business headquarters in Ushad. If Arlan advocated for him, even Father would listen, he was sure. He'd wielded so much power over their family affairs since Father had retired; it would be nice if that could be used to his advantage, for once. He'd used what money he could get from selling his fine clothes to pay for his stay at the inn, once he'd found the correct average price for a room, and spent the rest on supplies for travel. Four more days, he thought as he fell asleep. ----- Camping, he decided, wasn't for him. At least not without Micah to do everything for him. His back ached as he finally reached Ushad, and he narrowly sidestepped a merchant’s cart as it came to a stop for taxes at the gate. He walked past the distracted orcs as they collected their payment, striding forward confidently. The streets were bustling with activity, he was happy to note. It was a nice change from Glenhaven. It was a rather large outpost, as far as they went, but it could hardly compare to one of the three cities. He whistled as he walked, drawing on old memories to navigate the town. A few wrong turns later, he found the headquarters of the Westmonte Shipping Company. A boring business, he'd always felt, but clearly there was money in it. The secretary looked up from some papers as he entered. “Can I help you?” “Can you inform Arlan that I'd like to speak with him?” He looked him over, politely confused. “I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have any meetings for him scheduled today.” Eliam sighed deeply, setting his bag down next to him. “Just tell him Eliam Westmonte would like to speak to him. Immediately.” The secretary scrutinized him, and after a moment stood up from his desk. “Please have a seat, Mr… Westmonte.” He complied, stretching out on a small couch by the door as the secretary withdrew up the stairs. Minutes passed, and finally his brother walked down. “Oh, Maker, it wasn't a joke.” “It's good to see you too,” Eliam greeted him cheerfully. Arlan sighed. “Please… come upstairs, then. How did you even get here?” “I walked. Micah makes camping out look so easy,” he chatted easily as he followed him through the building. “I'd have really been in trouble if I couldn't just magic up some fire, I think. I don't understand how people travel like that on a regular basis.” “Eliam,” Arlan stopped him as they reached a small room, with a desk and two comfortable chairs. He motioned to one of them, and Eliam sat down, waiting for him to continue. “You… shouldn't even be here.” He frowned. “I figured out I wasn't welcome home, that much was clear. But I assumed you would at least welcome me here. What did Father even tell you?” Arlan sat behind the desk, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Why are you making me explain this to you? He told me you'd been disinherited. And really, I should have known it was only a matter of time until you showed up here.” “I didn't even do anything, really. I-” “You seduced Master Talston's daughter during the dinner. She said you walked her away from the party, and she got caught up in your charms. News to me you have any, the way you act.” He sighed. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. But honestly, you're lucky she didn't accuse you of worse. What were you thinking?” “I don't know. That she was a pretty girl who was interested in me, I guess? I… I guess I wasn't thinking. Not really. But to disinherit me over this? Surely you don't agree?” He rested his arms on the desk, looking at Eliam intently. “You're not stupid. A bit unmotivated, maybe even a bit spoiled and naive, sure. But hardly stupid. Do you really think this was the only reason?” Eliam shifted awkwardly. “I've done other stuff, sure. But it was all handled. Or no one found out. It's all so minor, I guess? Father mentioned the Elyde, but I mean… we're not that important. No one is going to recognize me on the street. Why would anyone care what I do?” Arlan shook his head. “Things add up, Eliam. Even minor things. No, the Elyde won't care if you get mad at some boy and throw empty wine bottles at his house in the night. But that family will care, and their friends will care. And people they don't know will care when you go out and rip off some merchant the next day because you can't be asked to pay. Repeat it enough times and yes, people start to remember you and wonder why no one's done anything about you.” Eliam sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “I would have just found a way to talk to Father if I wanted a lecture.” Arlan stared at him in disbelief, and Eliam wondered for a moment if he'd gone too far. Before he could think of a way to fix the situation, his brother covered his face with his hands, sighing deeply. “Okay. Leave.” He stood, pulled Eliam up from the chair, and walked him to the door. “Okay, that was the wrong thing to say,” Eliam began. “But if you’d just give me a chance to explain...” Arlan shook his head, fishing out two gold coins from his pocket and pushing them into his hands. “Take care of yourself. Just… try to think of this as a chance to see the world. And to learn to not be a spoiled idiot.“ Eliam stared at the door as Arlan closed it on him, momentarily speechless. He knocked on the door, frowning as his brother refused to answer. Before he could knock again, the secretary was there with his bag, holding it out to him. “Please follow me, sir.” Eliam shook his head, but allowed himself to be lead with only minor protest, unsure of how to argue his case. Outside, he looked out at the dirt road, the coins weighing heavily in his pocket. He sighed deeply, and after one last look at the building, set out for the bar.